


All My Love and Nothing More

by featherfooted



Series: Drarry Drabbles [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherfooted/pseuds/featherfooted
Summary: Draco had a lover. Keyword: had.One night when packing up his flat, he hears a song on the radio that seems to fit perfectly with his inner monologue. It follows him everywhere, as do the memories of his lover.Songfic! with Lewis Capaldi's Before You Go.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarry Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001397
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	All My Love and Nothing More

**Author's Note:**

> Draco had a lover. Keyword: had.
> 
> One night when packing up his flat, he hears a song on the radio that seems to fit perfectly with his inner monologue. It follows him everywhere, as do the memories of his lover.
> 
> A.N-  
> I don't own these characters or the song used! Listen to the song here- https://youtu.be/Jtauh8GcxBY Thanks for reading! Expect more Drarry content from me soon. <3

_ Drip. Drip. Drip. _

The only sounds Draco could hear laid out on the bathroom floor were the drip of the leaky faucet and the hum of the aircon. 

_ What did I do to lose you? How did I screw up this poorly? Was there something I could've said to make your heart beat better? _

Mere seconds away from a panic attack, he curled in on himself trying to do a calming exercise his therapist had taught him. Whispering to himself, he started counting the things he could feel ( _ ice cold tile, his matted bath mat, the gentle breeze of the air conditioning _ ), the things he could see ( _ grey stained tile, the white stained tub, puddles from a recent shower _ ), and the sounds he could hear.

Pricking his ears, he realized the aircon had turned down and the drips had all but stopped. Slowly, he recognized the small melody of a neighbor’s speakers carrying through the thin walls of his London apartment. 

_ “I fell by the wayside, like everyone else _

_ I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, but I was just kidding myself _

_ Our every moment, I start to replace _

_ 'Cause now that they're gone, all I hear are the words that I needed to say…” _

Muttering to himself about irony and how the Fates are  _ just _ awful, Draco realized that he had abated another panic attack. 

_ Guess I can reward myself. Would you have? _

* * *

Packing was the hardest thing Draco had ever had to do. 

Memories were stored in every wall, every crevice in the place that he had shared. Every piece of clothing and every piece of decor reminded him of what he had lost. The mug given to him when they realized they shared a love of coffee, the first edition of  _ Opulence and Oddity _ given to Draco on their first anniversary. It was almost too much to bear as Draco slowly sat on the chaise lounge and read the small script of the inscription. 

‘All my love and nothing more’

Tears streaming down his face, Draco curled up on the couch and let himself get lost in his feelings. Slowly, through  _ him _ , he had realized that keeping these negative emotions in, like his Pureblood upbringing taught him, had made him into a person he couldn’t look at in the mirror. Made him into a person his ex-lover couldn’t bear to be around. 

Through the tears, Draco smiled at the thought of him. The way his hair glistened in the moonlight, his eyes sparkling when they looked at Draco. 

_ Fuck. _

He was too tired to cry anymore, too tired to even blink. His eyes were too heavy, as was his heart.

Before drifting off to sleep, he realized the neighbor was playing the same song from the night before. 

_ Guess I’m not the only one going through something right now. _

_ “When you hurt under the surface _

_ Like troubled water running cold _

_ Well, time can heal, but this won't” _

* * *

_ “Was never the right time, whenever you called _

_ Went little by little by little until there was nothing at all _

_ Our every moment, I start to replay _

_ But all I can think about is seeing that look on your face” _

Draco found himself over the next few days packing and humming the song his neighbor couldn’t seem to stop playing every evening. 

The crying lessened but the dreadful bubbling feelings in his throat never did. Everything on the telly set him off, every memento he picked up made him lose his breath. Draco did a lot of extra exercises at those times. 

_ Breathe in for 5, hold for 7, out for 8. Repeat. You can do this. _

Every time ended up being shorter and shorter. Every time he succeeded it made him feel more accomplished. He could at least do this right, even if he couldn’t have let him in. Draco’s walls were made of steel but he wished they’d been made of glass. 

Finally, on the last night of packing, he sat on the sofa with a glass of wine and found the song his neighbor played. He wanted to try to show some solidarity, some brotherhood with them.  __

_ “Would we be better off by now _

_ If I'd have let my walls come down? _

_ Maybe, I guess we'll never know _

_ You know, you know” _

He didn’t even dare let himself think of what would happen if his love came back. He couldn’t.

* * *

_ Beep. Beep. Beep. _

Alarm clocks were the worst invention in Draco’s mind. 

Rolling over and hitting the off button, Draco got up slowly, drowsily making his way toward the shower. Under the hot water he finally started to wake up, feeling a bit more like himself as the minutes ticked on. Using his body wash and shampoo, he scrubbed all of the dirt and grime from the past few days off his pale arms and legs. 

The tile was cold on his feet as he slipped out, padding softly to his room while towel drying his hair. Since it was moving day he could afford to be a bit lazy in his appearance. He would get soot on it anyway, so he chose some green joggers, a nicer grey t-shirt, and a pair of silver and black trainers. Satisfied, he shrunk everything in his room and bathroom that was left and put it into the boxes left in there.

On his way to the kitchen to get his much needed first cup of coffee, Draco stopped in the living room to shrink the last few items and cast some cleaning spells. With a big sigh, he shrunk the chaise lounge and put it into the last box. He would finally be free of his memories after today.

Making his way to the kitchen he set about making his morning cuppa. Draco grabbed a mug and put the grounds in the machine to start it. Hearing the machine whir he grabbed the milk from the fridge and the sugar from the pantry. 

_ I am almost a free man.  _

Pulling him out of his reprieve, the machine beeped loudly from his side. Draco poured himself a large cup of the shimmering hot liquid, mixing in milk and sugar to his liking. 

Sighing then holding the coffee up to his nose to inhale the smell, he looked over from his coffee maker to the window. The mug in his hand made quick contact with the tile, spilling coffee all over his freshly cleaned floor.

The man opposite of him, seated at the breakfast nook with a copy of the Daily Prophet gave him a small smile.

“Harry?” said Draco, incredulous, red in the face and feeling like he was drowning. Everything was moving in slow motion. 

_ “So, before you go _

_ Was there something I could've said to make it all stop hurting? _

_ It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless _

_ So, before you go” _

“Hey Dray… I’m sorry for barging in. Can we talk?”


End file.
